


Reminisce

by thebearking



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Daryl Dixon is a Softie, F/M, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, Gentle Kissing, Kissing, M/M, Other, POV Second Person, Pining, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:39:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thebearking/pseuds/thebearking
Summary: Daryl's always had a soft spot for you, and you love it.





	Reminisce

**Author's Note:**

> aaahhh i started watching twd recently and i fell hard for daryl and for glenn. i needed to get this out of my system lol. gender-neutral reader here.

You’d always liked the woods. Being out in the middle of the great outdoors had a calming effect on you, and even in a world filled with death and destruction, the effect continued.

Rick had been tentative about letting you go out on your own for a walk through the woods, but when you mentioned that you could get a good round of hunting out of it, he’d relented. So you went out frequently into the forest, just you and Daryl, you armed with your machete and him armed with his crossbow. While you were always on the alert, searching for prey and walkers alike, you also took time to relax, to breathe, listening to the air rustle through the trees, the trickle of water from the creek nearby.

It was a good time for conversations, too. Daryl was different when he wasn’t surrounded by the other members of the group. You’d seen how kind he could be; he’d been there to help you when you sprained your ankle last month, tripping over a particularly large root like the klutz you were. He’d practically carried you back to camp, doting on you in his abrasive way. Hidden in his stern reprimands and gruff comments you could see how much he actually cared for you. Over time, you’d grown closer, thanks to these moments alone, when it was just you, and Daryl, and the woods. You teased him about how unruly his hair was getting, and he teased you for getting lost in thought when you should be paying attention to your surroundings.

You were thinking so hard that you nearly ran into a tree. You would have if Daryl hadn’t cleared his throat, drawing you back to the present. You sighed but managed to laugh at yourself.

Daryl chuckled, shaking his head as he passed you. “You’re gonna trip again not watching where you’re going,” he huffed. “Gonna get hurt again.”

“How could I get hurt with you to protect me?” you shot back. “You’re the best protection I got next to this guy.” You held up your machete.

“Well, help me out then and protect yourself a bit,” Daryl grumbled. He paused and went completely still, his crossbow poised to shoot. Then he relaxed and kept walking, gesturing for you to follow.

Daryl didn’t mind walking in silence, but you did. It was a little hypocritical of you, actually; you left the group for the relative quiet of the woods, but you were desperate to fill the natural ambience with your own humming or whistling or even singing when you were in the right mood. And what you wanted most of all was to talk with Daryl.

You’d been struggling with yourself recently. The stress of the apocalypse was enough of a burden, but dealing with feelings? For another person? That was too much. You’d lost almost everything and everyone you cared about in this world and yet Daryl remained. He was too strong, you decided, too resilient to go down. He was a survivor, a hunter, not the hunted. You trusted him with your life, and he apparently trusted you with his. Either you were truly dense or Daryl felt a similar way.

“You know what I miss, Daryl?” you piped up, stepping carefully over a fungus-ridden log.

“Hmm?”

You reached out and trailed your hand through the brush as you walked. “Touch.”

“That so?”

“Yeah.” You really did miss it; you’d always been an affectionate person, and going this long without so much as a hug that lasted for any longer than a few seconds was affecting you. Still, a pat on the shoulder from Daryl was a hell of a lot more effective than a hug from anybody else. “I’m a hugger, Daryl, you know that. I got needs as much as you do.”

“Hmph.”

You frowned. He only ever reverted to his noncommittal grunts when he was uninterested in whatever topic you brought up, but you weren’t ready for him to clam up on you. “I miss hugs. And kisses.”

“Really now? You kiss a lotta people back before this shit?”

You grinned. “You asking me if I had someone back then?”

He shrugged. He wasn’t looking at you, but you could see he was getting a little flustered. “Yeah.”

“Well, the answer’s no. I hadn’t had anyone in a while.” You picked at the sleeve of your raglan. “You?”

“No.”

Well, that was descriptive. “When’s the last time you kissed somebody?” you asked, your curiosity getting the best of you.

Another shrug. “Can’t remember.”

“Oh.”

He stopped and pivoted to face you. “‘Oh’?”

Now _you_ shrugged. “I figured you’d had some action in the past, that’s all. Charming guy as you are.”

“You forget who you’re talking to, sunshine. Not a lotta people approach a guy with a crossbow. Least the smart ones don’t.” As if to prove his point, he spat something out on the ground. Charming, indeed.

“Guess I’m dumb as rocks,” you quipped, and the way the side of his mouth quirked up made you smile. You stepped closer, sheathing your machete. “What if I kissed you? To remind you what it’s like?”

He arched an eyebrow skeptically. “You’re serious?”

“Serious as a heart attack, Dixon.”

He licked his lips. “And why would you wanna kiss me, of all people?”

“Do you wanna keep questioning me or do you want me to kiss you?”

Daryl fell silent. He was breathing hard, considering how still he was standing. You reached out to hook your finger in his belt loops, tugging him closer. He didn’t protest, allowing himself to be moved by you, his crossbow slung over his shoulder.

You raised your hands to the lapels of his vest, toying with the fabric a bit as you thought this over. “This okay?” you asked, peering up at him querulously.

His eyes were a little wide, watching your every move. “S’fine,” he mumbled.

You smiled and leaned forward until your lips touched his. You let yourself fall into it a bit, eyes closed, mouth moving slowly, waiting for him to reciprocate. And he did, kissing you back with the softest pressure. After a few seconds, his hands grasped your waist, one moving up to rest between your shoulder blades and the other lying flat against the small of your back.

It was you who pulled away, but not by much, just enough that you could look at him and gauge his reaction. He looked slightly breathless, lips parted, cheeks flushed. You weren’t used to being so close to him, and it was making you dizzy.

“Well?” you murmured. “That refresh your memory?”

He swallowed, then cleared his throat, his hands returning to your waist. “A bit.”

“Good.” With that, you stepped away, moving past him and treading further into the woods.

“Hey, now! You just gonna leave me out to dry?” he complained, heading after you.

“You want anything else you gotta earn it, sweet pea. What do you take me for, Daryl?” You flashed him a smirk over your shoulder, then almost stumbled over another jutting root.

You heard Daryl chuckle behind you, probably shaking his head. Then he said something you thought you’d never hear: “What else did ya wanna know?”

You beamed, turning around to fix him with narrowed eyes. “How come you never hug me, huh?”

Daryl frowned, his scraggly brows knitting together defensively. “What are you talking ’bout? I hugged you yesterday. Hell, I hugged you just now.”

“One-arm hugs don’t count. I’m talking about a full embrace.”

“You’re picky, is what you are.”

You held your arms out to him invitingly, pouting. “C’mon.”

Daryl grinned, shouldering past you. “You want more from me ya gotta earn it, sunshine.”

No matter how annoyed you felt, you couldn’t help but trudge after him with a smile. You knew enough to see through that brusque outer layer into the sentimental creature that lived underneath. You’d seen his scars, his rants, even his tears, and he’d seen his fair share of your own emotional outbursts. You weren’t sure what you wanted with Daryl, but you had an idea of it. The future looked bleak, but Daryl made it so much brighter.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!


End file.
